Santa's Secrets
by REIDFANATIC
Summary: The team is called to Dayton, Ohio to investigate some missing children
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

A light snowfall was blanketing Quantico in white when the BAU team arrived at their workplace. "This better be hell and good," Morgan told Reid as they entered the elevator together from the parking structure. "I'm supposed to be getting on a plane to Chicago. It's two days until Christmas, you know."

"I know Morgan," Reid replied, his cane in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"JJ said it was important," Morgan added as the doors closed on the two profilers.

They exited on the sixth floor and made their way into the BAU where Emily was removing her coat. "Feliz Navidad, guys," she said sarcastically. "Don't the unsubs realize it's Christmas.

"Apparently not," Reid said as he hooked the shoulder strap of his messenger bag over his chair, leaned his cane against his desk and started to undo his coat.

Choosing not to go to his office, Morgan deposited his leather jacket over the back of Reid's chair and the threesome climbed the stairs to the round table room which already held Hotch, Rossi, Garcia and JJ who was dropping files in front of each chair on top of a pad of legal paper and a pen. After placing the last file she clicked the remote. "Dayton, Ohio needs our help. Four children in the Dayton area have gone missing in the last four days."

"Four days…and they're just calling us now!" Morgan remarked.

"Have any bodies been found?" Reid asked. "Statistics show that most missing children are killed within the first twenty-four hours."

"No, no bodies have been found," JJ told them.

"Have there been any demands?" Hotch asked.

"No, no demands either."

"Why would he take four at once?" Emily said. "The idea for a pedophile is to spend time with the child until he tires of him or her or until he or she outgrows the unsub's preferance, then he'd take another child, not four at once.

"Maybe he's not a preferential offender," Morgan noted as he looked at the screen that held pictures of the four missing children. "He's taken both boys and girls. Most perferential offenders want only one sex, one particular age group."

"Whatever he is, four children are missing," Rossi stated. "Four days have gone by and the clock is ticking. Just because no bodies have been found doesen't mean they're not out there," he paused for a moment, "somewhere."

"I agree Dave," Hotch interjected, "and I think we need to move fast to save how ever many of those children are still alive. JJ, what have you got for us on these kids?"

JJ clicked the remote and a cute little blonde haired girl around six appeared on the screen. "Dionne Tremblay, age six, was reported missing two days ago but her mother admitted to not having actually seen her for four days, so the local LEOs think that's probably when she was taken."

"What do you mean, 'her mother admitted not having seen her for four days'?" Emily asked, her mouth wide open.

"Dionne's mother, Claire, is bipolar. I guess when she gets in the depressive phase she doesn't notice much. The school called after Dionne hadn't shown up for two days and Claire admitted having no idea where her daughter was."

"And they let this mentally incompetent woman keep custody of a child?" Morgan asked. "Where's the father?"

"In the wind somewhere," JJ answered. "He's not in the picture."

Suddenly they all stopped and looked at Reid. "Uh…custody was probably not an issue if she was taking her meds; it's probably not as noticeable when her condition is controlled by medications. The manic and depressive episodes would reoccur once she went off them. A lot of people feel that psyche meds keep them in a continual fog and that's why they don't want to take them," the young profiler rattled off without a breath. "It wouldn't matter what phase of the disorder she was in if it was strong enough. In the manic phase she'd be on too much of a high to care for a child and in the depressive phase, too low. But…if they managed to get by and kept under the radar nobody would…uh…know."

"It that how it was with you sweetcheeks?" Garcia asked as she reached out and touched his arm.

Reid looked down at the table and nodded. "I think JJ's got three other victims for us to focus on," he said as he looked at the liaison.

"The second child," JJ continued as if there'd been no interruption, "is Danny Lezwicky, also six," a bright little boy with red hair and a missing front tooth appeared on the screen. "He went missing three days ago."

"The third child," JJ clicked the remote again and a little girl with long brown hair filled the screen, "is Lori Skinner, age five, missing two days."

"And the fourth child," JJ said as she clicked the remote for the last time and took her seat, "is Jason Tucker, age four." A blonde head with big blue eyes came on the screen. "He went missing yesterday."

"Oh, you precious little babies, what happened to you," Garcia asked the screen after JJ had seated herself.

"That's what we have to find out," Rossi replied.

"What do we know about the other kids JJ?" Prentiss asked.

"Not a lot yet, I didn't have a lot of time to talk to Dayton PD before I called you all in. All I know is they're all from single parent households."

"How's the press handling something like this?" Morgan asked. "Have they had the parents make any kind of appeal?"

"No, they really are trying not to get the press involved because of one fact."

"What's that?" Rossi said.

"That with the exception of Dionne Tremblay, who they're not sure of the time of disappearance," JJ began, "the last person the others were seen with was…uh," she gave a sheepish smile, "Santa Claus."

"Santa Claus," the team said as one.

"Yeah, Dayton feels that if they mention this to the press it'll be a media nightmare this close to Christmas."

"I can imagine," Hotch said. "There are Santa Clauses on every corner and in every shopping mall. People would stop bringing their kids to see him when they're all probably innocent men. It's a brilliant idea though. What kid wouldn't go with Santa Claus? They're taught not to talk to strangers but this is Santa Claus."

"So let me get this straight," Morgan stated, "we've got four kids missing and we're not sure any of them are still alive and our unsub is Santa Claus!" JJ nodded. "Wheels up in thirty," Morgan sighed, stood and headed for the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

A/N: Thanks to all who read and took the time to review

* * *

The jet wended its way on its northwest journey to Dayton. Prentiss and Reid sat across from Morgan and JJ while Hotch and Rossi sat off to the side.

"Okay, why these four?" Morgan asked. "What is it about them?"

"Could it be as simple as he had access? We know that Claire Tremblay wasn't paying a lot of attention to her child. Perhaps the others weren't either," Reid suggested.

"Do you think they're mentally compromised as well?" Prentiss asked.

"I didn't say that and that's not necessarily true. Just because someone's mentally unstable doesn't mean he or she doesn't notice things. My mother realized Gary Michaels was a danger to me. She even had us move houses because of it. My mother maintains that a mother knows. She said they have instincts, they feel things."

"She's right," JJ declared. "I probably wouldn't have thought that at one time but since I've had Henry…"

"Then why didn't these mothers or fathers?" Morgan held up the four children's pictures.

"That's what we'll have to find out," Rossi said.

"Okay," Morgan ordered, "JJ, you and Reid go to the station, talk to the locals and we'll have to try to figure out what to do with the press. Reid, victimology, it's clear he probably watched these kids to know they were vulnerable. Work with Garcia, we have to find out as much as we can about these families."

Reid nodded, "On it."

"Prentiss, you and I'll go visit Claire Tremblay and Danny Lezwicky's parent." Emily nodded. "Hotch, you and Rossi take the other two parents. We'll meet back at the precinct and work out a profile."

When the plane landed in Dayton the group separated into pairs to carry out their individual assignments.

* * *

Morgan and Prentiss climbed two flights of stairs in the apartment building where Dionne Tremblay resided with her mother. The door to the apartment was answered by a woman Prentiss took to be about thirty. She could have been pretty, Morgan thought, but her dirty blonde hair was greasy and disheveled. She was overweight and clad in grey sweat pants and a sweat shirt, no bra.

Morgan and Prentiss flashed their badges and told Claire that they had been called in by the Dayton PD to help find her daughter.

She looked at them through eyes that were glazed and cloudy, "I already told the police I don't know anything," she said in an emotionless monotone.

"Perhaps we'll have different questions," Prentiss said taking a step forward so Claire Tremblay felt compelled to open the door and let them in.

The small apartment was in as much disarray as the woman who lived there. The garbage can in the kitchen overflowed. Things were strewn all over the house. Dirty dishes almost filled the sink. Claire plopped down heavily on the couch. "So, ask your questions."

* * *

Joe Skinner opened the door to see two men with FBI credentials standing there. "Mr. Skinner?" Hotch said. The man nodded. He had dark hair the length of Reid's and the fuzz around his chin and upper lip told the men he hadn't shaved in a few days. He wore a sleeveless white tee shirt and blue jeans. "I'm Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Rossi." He indicated his partner. "We'd like to ask you some questions about the disappearance of your daughter Lori. May we come in?"

Joe Skinner bent his dark head toward the floor and, resigning himself to the situation, opened the door to admit the two profilers. The apartment was small and it appeared some effort was made to keep it tidy. Hotch and Rossi wondered who make this effort, Joe or Lori? As they followed him into the living room, the distinct smell of alcohol that permeated his body wafted up to meet them. For being two days before Christmas, there was no Christmas tree standing. No toys that would be used by a little girl littered the apartment. Joe reached the couch, picked up a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He inhaled deeply like his life depended on it, then held it between his shaky nicotine stained fingers as he blew smoke in their faces. That, combined with the stench of the alcohol, made Hotch and Rossi almost step back but they didn't. He sat down on the couch and looked longingly at the half full bottle of scotch on the coffee table and the half full glass beside it. "What do you want to know?

* * *

The precinct was buzzing with activity in an attempt to find the four missing children. "What do you make of the Santa Claus angle?" Detective Grace Brooks asked.

"Could be anything from Santa being a character the kids would naturally follow to the unsub flaunting his act by using this beloved figure," Reid told her. "We won't know until we've figured out the unsub's motivation."

"Unsub?" Brooks looked confused.

"Unknown subject," Reid clarified, "the kidnapper. I'll need to look at the interviews you've done with the parents and people in the neighborhood." He settled himself at the desk and set up the computer to talk to Garcia. JJ was staring straight ahead. "JJ what's wrong?"

"Nothing," JJ shook herself. "I was just looking at the tree." She pointed to the tree that had been set up in the precinct. "The day after tomorrow is Christmas and it's Henry's first, well not technically, but he was only a month old last year. This year his eyes went so big when he saw the tree and I…"

"Then let's get to work and catch this guy before then," Reid said as he clicked the computer. "Garcia, you there?"

"You betcha, my favorite junior G man," Garcia's face appeared on the screen.

"What did you find out?" he asked.

"Okay, these families were not the Cleavers. Claire Tremblay was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at seventeen and has been treated with numerous medications. The concoction of the moment appears to be Risperidone, Lithium, Olanzapine and Depakote."

Reid whistled, "All of which can have major side effects."

"From reading the list of adverse affects, I'd say you're right on there genius. She got pregnant at twenty-three. No father is even listed on the birth certificate."

"That's a big help," JJ said.

"Has she been sticking to her meds, you know, reordering them from her pharmacy routinely?" Reid asked.

"No, she's been sporadic. Sometimes she takes two months or more to reorder a one month's supply."

"So, noncompliant with medications and likely not with doctor's appointments either which means no one is keeping track of her." Reid jotted some things on a pad. "What about the others?"

"Tanya Lezwicky has had numerous arrests for drug possession but she's managed to avoid any major prosecution. Jason Tucker's mother's also found her way onto the police blotter for prostitution. Neither of these fathers is in any way involved. I don't see any money in the form of child support coming in. Joe Skinner's wife Molly died in a car accident when Lori was two. He was-"

"Don't tell me, driving drunk," Rossi interjected as he and Hotch entered the room just as Garcia made her last remark.

"You got it Agent Rossi. Also poor little Jason, Lori and Danny were frequent flyers at the ER. They weren't reported because the injuries weren't inconsistent with the story the parent gave."

"Thanks Garcia," Reid said, "keep digging."

Reid shared what Garcia had told them just as Prentiss and Morgan arrived. The foursome gave reports of their meetings with the parents.

"God, haven't these children been through enough? Now they're in the hands of an unsub who's doing who knows what to them," JJ said after hearing everyone's stories.

Reid's eyes opened wide, "Maybe not!" he said.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

* * *

"What is it Reid?" Hotch, who had long ago learned not to dismiss this young man's instincts, asked.

"Okay, hear me out. What if the unsub chose these kids because they had such rotten lives? What if he feels like he's some kind of angel of mercy and that's why he's chosen the Santa Claus persona, this larger than life character who can grant all their wishes."

"Or maybe," Prentiss added, "his intention is just to lure them away so he could put them all out of their misery."

"Either way, he must have looked into these kids," Rossi said.

Morgan pulled out his cell, "I'll get Garcia to look into anyone who might have hacked into computer systems that have info on our kids."

"If she can find his IP address and track it, we can find out where he is," Reid said.

* * *

Four year old Jason Tucker rinsed his hands under the warm water. He could see the red from his hands mix with the water turning it a light pink. It almost hypnotized him as it swirled around the drain and eventually disappeared. He scrubbed hard, making sure to get any evidence of it out of his nail beds. He didn't want to make Santa angry. He grabbed the towel off the rack and dried his hands and then sat for a minute on the toilet seat to think. He could hardly believe that something like this was happening to him. It would be over soon wouldn't it? Santa had to go back to the North Pole. A single tear escaped from his eye. What would happen to him when it was over?

* * *

"Okay boys and girls, I've looked into people who've hacked into sites that concern our kids and their parents. The IP string led me to a Leonard Sinclair who lives in Dayton," Garcia relayed to the team.

"Have you got anything on this guy Garcia?" Morgan asked.

"Have I ever let you down?" the computer tech responded.

"No, ma…uh…Penelope, you never have."

"Mr. Sinclair is 48 years old, single and works for the Dayton CPS."

"Oh great," JJ replied, "a pedophile working within the Child Protective Services. Who knows how many kids he comes in contact with?"

"We know it's common for pedophiles to work around children," Hotch said. "It gives them better access."

"Any history of mental problems Garcia?" Prentiss asked.

"None that I could find but I'll keep looking."

"What about kiddie porn sites, stuff like that," Reid wondered.

"Nada my gorgeous young friend, he's been checking out a lot of kids, most appear to be like the ones who were taken, that is, in less than ideal family situations."

"Have you got an address on this guy Garcia?" Rossi asked.

"I thought you'd never ask. He lives at 1425 Mead Street."

"Thanks Garcia," Morgan closed his phone.

Reid turned to his map, "Okay, I've marked the areas from where the kids were taken." The others looked at the pins Reid had placed in the map. He drew lines with red marker indicating the unsub's comfort zone. "Now," Reid pointed to a place on the map. "Mead Street is outside the comfort zone, but," he stressed, "the CPS office is smack dab in the middle of it."

"That's enough for me," Morgan said. "Let's go talk to Mr. Sinclair, Reid, you work on the profile." He turned to leave the room with the others close behind.

* * *

As the team drove up the tree lined street with the houses lit up and the yards decorated festively in honor of the season, Emily realized that she didn't take the time to drive around and look at the lights people put up for the holidays. She smiled at the cheerful air the decorations elicited but the smile soon turned to a frown as they neared 1425. Behind those walls someone was mocking the jovial persona of Santa Claus and things that were sinister were going on amid the twinkling lights, the Christmas trees laden with ornaments and tinsel and the wreaths that hung on the doors in this time of goodwill toward one's fellow man.

* * *

1425 Mead Street was a small house painted white with dark green trim on the eaves, shutters and window frames. One string of green lights decorated the outside of the home along the eaves on the front of the house. A Christmas tree could be seen in the large front window, its lights twinkling merrily. Light glowed from within the house telling the team that someone was home. It looked to the team like a small home you'd see on a Christmas card. This home however could be hiding a multitude of sins, they realized. The team members alit from their SUV and walked up the short walk to the front door. "Hotch, you and Rossi take the back in case he tries to make a break for it. Prentiss, you and JJ do the talking. It might be less threatening to him and to the children," Morgan said as Hotch and Rossi headed for the back of the home.

Prentiss knocked on the white door with green trim just next to a wreath made of fake fir boughs, gold ribbon, holly and berries. Moments later the door was opened by a nondescript white man, 5'9" with thinning brown hair and a bald spot on the top of his head. "Yes," he said quietly.

"Leonard Sinclair?" The man nodded. "I'm Agent Prentiss from the FBI," Emily said, producing her credentials. "These are Agents Morgan and Jareau. We'd like to speak to you about some missing children."

"Missing children," the man looked puzzled. "Why would you think I know anything about that?"

"Because you've been looking into them," Morgan said

"I look into a lot of children. It's part of my job you know. I work for Child Protective Services."

"Yes Mr. Sinclair, we know that," JJ said. "May we come in?"

"Sure, I guess so." He stood back opening the door to allow them entrance.

"You don't mind if we look around do you?" Morgan asked while JJ went to let Hotch and Rossi in.

"Be my guest, you'll have to excuse the mess," he said as the team began a search of the rooms.

"Clear," could be heard by one after the other as they searched each room and found no children. They headed to the basement with no better results. They found nothing to suggest a child had ever been there.

"There's no evidence to bring him in for questioning. He's right, he looked up a lot of kids and they didn't all go missing," Hotch whispered to Morgan.

"That'll be all for now Mr. Sinclair," Morgan said as the team filed out. "Damn," he said when they reached the SUV and he pounded his fist on the hood. "I thought this guy was good for it."

Rossi patted him on the back. "We'll find them," he said.

"Yeah, but will they be alive when we do?" Prentiss wondered as the team crammed into the SUV and drove off into the night.

Leonard Sinclair opened his cell and dialed. "The FBI was just here," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

* * *

The team stood around the Dayton Police Department while the officers clustered throughout the bullpen to hear the profile. "We're looking for a white male, likely over forty and possible as old as sixty," Hotch informed those gathered.

"All these children came from single parent homes where the parent is unstable due to a mental condition, drugs or alcohol and where the children were likely abused," Morgan added.

Prentiss stepped forward. "He's obviously been watching them or researching them to know which children to target and he has to have a place to keep them where they won't be heard if they scream. It's doubtful he has a steady job."

"This unsub has not contacted the media or tried to insert himself into the investigation," Rossi said.

"Two facts are telling," Reid began, "the fact that he took both boys and girls and the fact that no bodies have been found. When police are involved, 83% of abducted children are usually killed within the first twenty-four hours. A sexual predator is unlikely to take both sexes. This type of unsub usually has a preference for a certain sex and age. He would also be unlikely to take more than one child at a time. That probably means we are dealing with someone other than a sexual predator."

"Does that help us find him any easier?" One of the officers called out.

"No, unfortunately not," Hotch replied. "All it would mean is that the children are not apt to be sexually abused."

"So why else would he nab the kids?" Another officer asked.

"He could be what's known as an angel of mercy," Reid replied. "He sees what they've gone through and he thinks he's helping them."

"You mean like nurses who kill their patients?" A female detective shouted from the back of the room.

"Yeah, something like that." Reid replied.

"So, do you think he's ultimately going to kill them?" The same woman asked.

"That's hard to say," Hotch responded, "since we don't know his fantasy and his reason for taking them. Perhaps he lost a child and he's looking on these children as replacements for the one he lost."

"Our technical analyst is looking into people who were researching these children hoping that will lead us to the unsub," Rossi said. "Continue your interviews with anyone who knew the kids and their parents. People often know things they don't realize they know. That's all for now."

* * *

"Excuse me," one of the officers stuck his head in the door of the conference room as the team were discussing their next move. "We got a guy out here who says he took the four kids."

The members of the team looked back and forth at each other. It hadn't been mentioned in the press yet so if this man knew about it there was a possibility he was for real, Morgan thought as the team followed the officer to the interrogation room where the man had been left.

He sat in the chair rocking and his hands shook. He wore worn, dirty clothes, not warm enough for the winter weather. "He's taking antipsychotic medication," Reid said, "notice the facial tics. And look at the way his hands are shaking, he's probably a junkie in need of a fix."

"What did he say, Officer Fines," Hotch asked.

"Said he'd taken the kids and he'd give up their location if we paid him."

"If he isn't the guy how would he know about it?" JJ asked. "We've managed to keep it out of the press."

"The guy looks like a street person, looking for money for his next fix. He could have heard about it from someone on the street who knows one of the parents, Tanya Lezwicky's a junkie and Kerry Tucker's a hooker, both are into the street life," Rossi said. "Give me a few minutes with the guy."

The team watched as Rossi asked the man questions. His answers were less than forthcoming. Finally the profiler said, "Let me get this straight, you took Lori Skinner because her mother Molly is a hooker?"

"She needs to learn to look after her kid better," the man said.

"Yeah, well she'd have a hard time. Lori Skinner's mother is dead. She lives with her father Joe. You don't have these children and all you're doing is wasting our time and taking us away from the investigation. But, we will fulfill one of your wishes. You'll get a warm place to sleep for the night. You're under arrest for hindering a federal investigation." Rossi stood and left the room.

Morgan's cell rang just as they finished up with the false confessor. "Ya got something for us Garcia?"

"I may have pals. I've done some further hacking into Leonard Sinclair's PC. He's sent some emails that are suspicious. He doesn't mention anything about kids but he does mention the parcels."

"Who's he sending them to Garcia?" Hotch asked.

"Somebody named Paul Pendleton."

"Find out everything you can on this Pendleton guy Garcia," Morgan ordered.

"On it," the phone clicked and the computer tech was gone.

"I never considered that Sinclair was working with someone," Prentiss said.

"He'd be the perfect one to get information on these kids and relay it to Pendleton without anyone being suspicious," Rossi suggested.

"So what do we do now?" JJ asked.

"We wait and see what Garcia comes up with," Morgan replied.

A few minutes later Morgan's cell rang and he put it on speaker, "Talk to us Garcia."

"Paul Pendleton is the owner of a large chain of men's wear stores all over the country. He's sixty-two and has a master's degree in business admin. He's also a multi millionaire. He was married to Denise Pendleton and they had four children. The wife and all four children were killed a few years ago when an electrical short circuit caught the Christmas tree on fire. Pendleton wasn't home at the time. He relinquished his duties as CEO shortly after his family's deaths."

"He lost four children," Reid said. "These four," he pointed to the pictures on the white board, "could be replacements in his mind. And it's Christmas time. That could be the stressor."

"Anything else Garcia?" Prentiss asked.

"Oh yeah, and you're gonna love this. Pendleton never rebuilt his home after the fire and moved into a penthouse downtown. But, he recently purchased a home on, get this, St. Nicholas Street."

"Garcia, are you playin'?" Morgan asked.

"No, she's not," Reid said. "I noticed that street on the map before. See, it's here, near Highland Park." He pointed to the street on the map.

"There's something else," Garcia's voice took command of the room. "A week ago he used his credit card to buy a Santa suit."

"That was stupid on his part," Reid said. "It's almost like he's asking to get caught."

"Then let's not disappoint him," Rossi said as the team headed for the door.

* * *

A middle aged man with salt and pepper hair picked up the phone. "Chester," he heard from the other end. "The FBI are coming, please put my plan in action."

"Yes sir," Chester said as he hung up the phone. He hurried towards the door. He had work to do.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

A/N: The alerts being down have kept me from repying to some reviews. I will reply as soon as the alerts are back up. Thanks again to all who take the time to read and review.

* * *

The team along with members of the Dayton Police Department descended on 962 St. Nicholas Street. Reid had insisted on coming and Morgan had allowed it as long as he stayed in the background. He could understand the young agent's desire to get back into the field after what seemed like forever on the sidelines. The house, a rather large Cape Cod, was ostentatiously decorated for the season with lights on the house, a sleigh of lights with Santa and the reindeer on the roof and lights on the trees, as if announcing that this was the place. Rossi, Hotch and Detective Brooks went around back while JJ, Prentiss and Morgan took the front. Reid stood in the background leaning on his cane as big, soft snowflakes drifted to the ground around them. Prentiss rapped on the door. "Paul Pendleton, FBI, open up." There was no response so she banged again, this time harder, the other two with their guns at the ready. The door finally swung open and a man stood before them.

The man was on the chubby side with a head of wavy white hair that was a touch longer than Reid's and a full white beard, neatly trimmed. He was clad in a pair of black pants with suspenders that covered a blue and grey plaid shirt. He looked like he could actually be Santa Claus. His blue eyes seemed to twinkle in one moment and then look profoundly sad in the next. "You've finally come," he said much to the agent's surprise. "No need to bang so loudly. You don't want to scare the children."

"Paul Pendleton," Morgan said.

"Yes, yes," the man replied cordially.

"I'm Agent Morgan, these," he gestured with his hand, "are Agents Prentiss and Jareau, we're from-"

"The FBI, yes I can see that by your vests." He pointed to the protective vests they wore. "You've no need of them. I abhor violence."

"Mr. Pendleton," Prentiss said, "we're here about-"

"The children, of course, I've been expecting you."

Morgan Prentiss and JJ exchanged glances. This was the strangest encounter they'd ever had with an unsub.

"We'd like to see the children," JJ said.

"Oh, of course, come in, it's cold out there." He opened the door wide to allow the three agents entrance to his home. He was about to close the door when he noticed Reid. "Come along young man," he added.

The small foyer was taken up mostly by a huge Christmas tree that was completely white with blue and silver decorations. They could hear the children in another room of the house. They weren't crying or screaming, they were, the agents could hardly believe their ears, singing! Off tune strains of Jingle Bells could be heard from the family room.

"Please, you don't need the guns and we don't want to scare the children, do we?" Pendleton said as they made their way closer to where the singing originated.

JJ and Prentiss holstered their weapons as Morgan said, "You'll forgive me if I see that for myself."

The five of them entered the family room that had been transformed into a Christmas wonderland. A huge tree stood in one corner of the room, decorated with brightly colored balls, popcorn chains, tinsel and candy canes. The lights gave of a warm glow. The fireplace was lit and its warmth engulfed the room. It's mantel was adorned with pictures the children had finger painted. The four children sat on the carpet in front of the fireplace playing with toys and singing merrily. They were unharmed, clean and well cared for.

"What the…" Morgan said as he surveyed the scene before him.

A loud beeping was suddenly heard. "That's my security system. It must be the agents you sent around back. I'll go let them in."

Morgan, Prentiss, Reid and JJ looked disbelievingly at one another. What was going on here? Paul Pendleton arrived shortly with Hotch, Rossi and Detective Brooks in tow. They all looked as confused as the others.

"Mr. Pendleton," Morgan said, "why?"

"As you probably already know since you're here. My computer was set to alert me if anyone was looking into me," he explained when the team looked confused. "I had four children that died in a fire. I wasn't there for them. I was too busy building my empire, making my fortune and then suddenly they were gone and the empire and the fortune didn't matter anymore. It's too late for me to help my children but it's not too late for these little ones." He gestured to the children who played on the carpet and seemed oblivious to what was going on only a few feet away. "I took them to draw attention to them, so people would see what they were going through. Perhaps if they got removed from their homes their parents would finally come to understand their value. Maybe they'd work at changing their lives to get them back. They could get their children back, I can't."

He went to a mahogany secretary in the hallway and removed a sheaf of papers from one of the drawers. "Here's a list of children who are much like these four, who need to be noticed before it's too late."

"Where did you get this?" Detective Brooks asked as she perused the long list of names.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say," Pendleton responded.

"Leonard Sinclair," Brooks said. "He sent you emails about 'parcels'."

"That he did." Pendleton replied. "Len is my cousin and one family member corresponding with another about parcels at Christmas time is not unheard of. There's nothing illegal about it, nothing you could ever use in a court of law."

"He's right," Hotch whispered to Brooks.

"Now, here's another list of families willing to take in foster children. They all have children of their own and they're strong secure families. I had them all thoroughly vetted myself. Any one of them would be happy to take on one of these children or any of the children on this list. Promise me you'll get this looked into, that what I've done won't all be for naught."

"Mr. Pendleton," Rossi said. "As noble as your cause may have been, you abducted four children. We have to arrest you."

"Yes, I understand totally. Please don't put the handcuffs on until the children are gone. Someone is arranging Christmas at each of these children's homes. There will be trees and gifts until you can arrange something through CPS."

Prentiss, JJ and Detective Brooks rounded up the children and the toys that Paul Pendleton had purchased for them. They all looked disappointed to be returning home and each hugged the old man warmly and left in the company of some Dayton PD policewomen.

"Do any of you have children?" Pendleton asked. Hotch, JJ and Detective Brooks nodded. "Then I'm counting on you to see that these children are looked after, like you'd want yours to be. Isn't that what Christmas is about, a child being born in a stable and still being adored. These children are also children of God and were born into less than perfect circumstances but they should still be cared for and adored."

Morgan pulled his cuffs out. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been so unwilling to cuff an unsub. "It'll be alright Agent Morgan," Pendleton said, looking at the expression on Morgan's face. "You see, I'm dying of pancreatic cancer. It's very rapid. I'll make bail in the morning and then I'll live out the rest of my life in the comfortable surroundings of home. With the speed our legal system moves, I'll never see the inside of a courtroom. I wanted my death to mean something and now maybe it can. And soon I'll see my beloved wife and children again. That's why the Christ child came, to give us eternal life. What greater gift is there than that?"


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

A/N: This is the last chapter folks. Thanks to all who read and reviewed. I will reply when the alerts and my ISP are up again.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Reid asked quietly as Hotch, sitting beside him in the back of the SUV stared out of the window at his own reflection in the darkness. His grimmer than usual expression said he didn't appear to like what he saw.

"I was wondering if I was like Paul Pendleton, working all the time and losing touch with my family. I lost Haley because of it. I can't lose Jack. Was I wrong to come back? Should I have taken the retirement the bureau offered so I could be there for my son?"

"Someone once told me," Reid said, "that it's difficult when the person you identify with is the unsub. But it's not like you're working to amass some kind of fortune." He laughed disdainfully; "They sure don't pay us enough for that, do they? You're working to take monsters off the streets, to save lives and make the world a better place for Jack. Would it somehow be better for you to stay home and not be the man you truly are? That would eat you up inside and then how much good would you be to Jack?"

A small grin flitted across Hotch's face. Reid had always been extremely brilliant but somehow, when he hadn't been looking, the genius had also become wise.

"I talked to the airport," Morgan interjected from the driver's seat, closing his phone. "We can get a runway and clearance in two hours."

* * *

The team headed for the baggage check at the Dayton Airport before boarding the jet for the flight home. Even in the late evening the airport concourse was full of holiday travelers. They jostled Reid as he tried to maneuver his way to the baggage check, his go bag in one hand, his cane in the other and his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. They could hear 'I'll be Home for Christmas' being played over the public address system between boarding calls. A man dressed like Santa stood in the middle of the concourse ringing little hand held bells beside a clear receptacle where he was collecting money for the poor.

"Enough with the Santas already," Morgan sighed as they wove through the stream of people.

Emily laughed behind him, "Come on Morgan, where's your Christmas spirit?"

"I'll be home for Christmas, yeah right. I was supposed to be if it hadn't been for this case and I missed my flight," Morgan said as they passed the Santa and Reid stopped, put down his bag and fumbled in his pocket for some money to add to the collection. "Reid," Morgan stopped, "come on man."

"You still can be, you know" the bearded man in the red suit addressed Morgan.

"Can be what?" Morgan asked.

"Home for Christmas, there are two seats on a Northwest flight from Dulles to Chicago that leaves first thing in the morning."

Morgan gave his head a shake. Had he mentioned that he was going to Chicago? He didn't recall but he must have. And this guy knew the flight schedule from Dulles. He must have a memory like Reid's.

"It's fortunate you were able to get a flight out tonight. It seems that the British Airways flight that was supposed to use that runway had mechanical problems," he said to Hotch. "So with that bit of serendipity you'll be able to make it home in time for Christmas which will be so important for Jack as it's his first without his mother. And," he looked at JJ, "you won't want to miss your little one's first real experience of Christmas."

"No, no I won't," a baffled JJ said, shook her head absently as she moved along, her mind on getting home to Will and Henry.

"There's also a seat on a flight to Indianapolis in the early hours of Christmas morning," he turned his attention to Rossi. "The Galen family would be so glad if you could join them. They have something to celebrate this year. Maybe it'll convince you to finally put up a tree again yourself. But remember that Father Davidson is looking for you to be at midnight mass. Perhaps you could take Emily with you." Rossi looked confused while Emily seemed somewhat taken aback.

"Excuse me," Emily sounded irritated, "but I don't think…"

"Maybe you think too much, my dear. Go to the mass with a good friend and rejoice in what Christmas means and perhaps you can put some old issues to rest. Father Davidson is a very good ear."

The PA system called their flight. "We have to go," Morgan said to the others.

"Merry Christmas to you all, ho, ho, ho," the man said as the team rushed to catch their plane.

"How did he know all that stuff about us?" Reid whispered to himself, stopped and turned back to the man. "How did you know all that stuff about my team?"

The man chuckled and his belly really did jiggle like a bowl full of jelly. "The same way I know you ate the milk and cookies your parents left out in 1985. You didn't want them to know you didn't believe in Santa Claus anymore. You're a smart boy. You thought you'd get more gifts if they thought you believed." Reid's eyes grew huge. How could this man know that? He'd never told anyone. "Believe Spencer, believe in things that your eyes can't see and your amazing mind can't calculate and analyze." The man winked at him, "You better catch up with your team."

Reid nodded and turned to make his way to his teammates. At the door he turned to look back but the man was gone, vanished, like he'd never been there. "Where did he go?" he asked one of the airport employees, "the Santa that was there?"

"Santa! We don't have a Santa. This place is busy enough without a Santa in the mix."

Reid shook his head and made his way to the plane. "Hey Reid," Morgan shouted as they seated themselves for takeoff, "I just had Garcia check and, can you believe it, there really are two seats on that flight to Chicago. I had her book them both."

Somehow, Reid thought to himself, he did believe it. "Why would she book two seats?"

"You're comin' with me."

"Morgan I don't think…"

"No, Reid, that's your problem, you think too much. Sometimes you just have to just kick back and enjoy the ride."

"But…"

"Shut up Reid, you're comin'."

He knew he'd drive himself crazy trying to figure out how Santa… did he just think of that man as Santa… had known about him and the team so he wouldn't try and figure it out. He'd believe and he'd do as Morgan said, kick back and enjoy the ride.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," he relented.

Morgan laughed, "Get ready to be pampered my man. Mom, Sarah and Desiree are gonna love looking after you." The rest of the team grinned along with Morgan, if anyone could use a little pampering, it was Reid.

When the plane eventually reached its cruising altitude Emily and JJ came down the aisle with two trays, each containing three glasses of eggnog. Each team member took a glass.

"You there Garcia?" Emily asked as she sat down beside Reid with her eggnog and looked at the computer screen.

"Ready," Garcia said, holding her own glass of the milky liquid.

"I'd like to say something," Emily began. "Um hmm," she cleared her throat. "This has been a tough year for us. We could have lost two of our own," she glanced at Hotch and Reid. "This Christmas we're still reeling from the grief of the loss of one of our family just like last Christmas we delighted in the joy of the birth of another. Such is life, I suppose. Day in day out we've faced the worst that humanity has to offer and then on days like today we've gotten a rare glimpse at the best. We have been battered and broken," her strong voice, for once, cracked, "but we have never been beaten. We face each challenge, like every family, even more united. So let's celebrate Christmas, the whimsy of Santa Claus, the warmth of charity in people's hearts and let's rejoice in the true meaning of the season." She raised her glass, "Merry Christmas everyone."

The team raised their glasses as one, "Merry Christmas," they said in unison.

_**They err who think Santa Claus comes down the chimney,**_

_**He really enters through the heart.**_

_**Mrs. Paul M. Ell**_

The End.

A/N: Let me take this opportunity to wish you all a very, "Merry Christmas"…"Joyeux Noel"…"Vaselit Varoce"… "Fröliches Weihnachten"…"Feliz Navidad"…"Buon Natale"… "Lystig Jul"… "Vrolijke Kerstmis"…"Wesolych Świąt"… "Munter Jul…"Boldog Karácsonyt"…"Καλά Χριστούγεννα"…"С Рождеством Христовым" No matter how you may say it, I hope you enjoy the holiday season surrounded by those you love and have a safe, healthy and Happy New Year.

REIDFANATIC


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